


Finders Keepers

by kuro49



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 20:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5469536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath, in a world that is neither softer nor kinder, you are not in a black dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finders Keepers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoryKurago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoryKurago/gifts).



> happy holidays, my prss recipient!! i apologize that it is all character deaths from here on out but alas, canon had its way with me. Written for the prompt found family + a softer world ( _I don't want a world without pain or loss, I just want them to mean something_.)
> 
> also, I sincerely hope you have no adverse feelings about 2nd person pov??

 

i. this future is lost to you.

 

Tamsin is older. Stacker is not old enough. And, you have an inkling of an idea that age has nothing to do with it.

Older is not wiser. Wiser is nowhere close to what you are looking to be.

You have no use for being anything looking to step among the dying for a little longer.

 

Neither one of them is aware of the kind of destruction they are fully capable of. Neither one of them knows about the kind of saviours they will turn out to be. Neither your brother nor the girl of your dreams is thinking that there are moons out there bigger than this world alone.

This is where you admit, out loud, where neither Tamsin nor Stacker can hear, that you are okay with being the collateral damage here.

How you take off for the sky, despite the inevitability, it still takes the breath from your lungs.

 

If Stacker isn’t telling you what a bad idea this is, then you figure you can doubt whether things can really end as badly as they do when it is just Tamsin and you against what’s to come. These are no dragons for the slaying. This is something else all together. Maybe that is a good thing.

Maybe you go to let something better take your place. Here, in the aftermath, is a world you leave with her.

 

(You, Luna Pentecost, all you ever had were one regret. You had no way of knowing, of course.)

 

 

ii. finders keepers.

 

Where you are inclined to take the universe alongside of everything else if just to impress this girl, you are left knowing that there is probably a version of the two of you out there where neither one of you have to go elsewhere. This one hasn’t been that for a long time now.

 

You grab Luna with both hands, kiss her on the mouth, taking traces of her chap stick with you when you go for Stacker next. There is no hesitation for you when it comes to the two of them. You smack your lips theatrically loud against his just to get him to pull that expression he likes to deny he makes.

A grimace he doesn’t mean and a smile that he does.

As far as found family goes, you like to claim that you find them first.

It makes the Pentecost siblings sound like they are your strays. Like a soaked cardboard box filled with the runts of the litter left out in the rain. As much as Luna protests in return, there is a grin on her face that rivals yours. And as much as Stacker tries, he doesn’t have to understand the way you state this with triumph to let you get away with it.

 

(You, Tamsin Sevier, you only ever wanted to see the Pentecost siblings smile. Mako's though, she made up for a lot in those last days.)

 

 

iii. to think we are all made of the same star stuff.

 

You hate to think that you don't tell them both what a bad idea it is.

You hate to know that it wouldn’t have mattered either way.

 

You pay the inevitable no mind. After all, you have far better things to occupy your head with. 

Because in the end, she is always going to find you first. That is the thing. None of Coyote's consoles are working by the time she walks out from between the rubble and the debris. She finds you with your 01 still unconscious in her harness, you as the 02 still unsteady as you step out from the hatch.

You don't need Tamsin in your head to know that same triumph when Mako Mori finds you, clutching what will become your world in her hands.

 

The facility in Hawaii is washed of colour. Tamsin is too. You want to stay forever. You barely have two weeks. In that length of time though, you see Tamsin teach Mako how to throw a punch just as Luna did. In that time, you can't remember how it has taken you so long to get here. If the two of you have ever done damage in a Jaeger, you imagine a Tokyo where it has been Luna Pentecost and Tamsin Sevier inside of Coyote Tango.

You want to imagine a Tokyo where it has been the Pentecost siblings.

 

(You, Stacker Pentecost, you resent yourself for leaving Tamsin on her own for far too long. Luna would have given you hell for it.

She probably still could.)

 

 

iv. here are all your hardest edges.

 

Collateral damage makes for a good story.

In the aftermath, in a world that is neither softer nor kinder, you are not in a black dress.

The UN makes the wrong call when they try to ground Coyote Tango in the midst of Tokyo, calling her to step down in place for the warheads to be dropped. Because hasn’t that always been the human sentiment? What the Kaiju intends to destroy, the world will raze of it first. The UN makes the wrong call still when they think you can be warped into another story.

You have been Tokyo's daughter for far too long.

 

In this world they leave for you, you want to mourn as something of a family to the Pentecost name. In what still remains for you, you are not looking out at the crowds with bright eyes that could compare to Tamsin’s hair in the sun. You are looking for the way the crowd would part in his name. When you go, you will probably take the dead along with you. But here, you stand tall in your uniform for what's to come.

In your head, you can still see Tamsin. In your head, you can still see how your sensei’s looked to you without a single drift between the two of you. In your head, you have a memory of a memory and Luna Pentecost in your heart. You think you could be inspired just from imaging how she takes off from the ground in her machine.

You lay down flowers where no one else can see.

In the aftermath, out of a black dress, you sum up your loss.

 

Where the sun is bright, the rain falls just as hard.

Their gravestones stand, and you before them.

 

(You, Mako Mori, you were always going mean something if not their entire world.)


End file.
